Author's Note: Thank you once again to my amazing reviewers. The title of this section comes from a TV on the Radio song, called 'Ambulance'. Do not mistake this for any sort of songfic, nor was it influenced by the song. The title is merely for my own fancy, but the idea does set the tone for the pensive mood of our narrator in this chapter. Speculate all you will ;) and please leave reviews!
Chapter 8: Crutch and Cast (Lothíriel POV)
"You father requests your presence, my lady."
I glanced up to see the young page standing in the doorway, panting. I had heard him pound up the steps, his errand appearing to be of utmost importance. I placed the book I was reading on the table, and rose to my feet.
"Where may I find him?" I asked the boy. He could be no more than ten, and wore the livery of the White Tower proudly.
"He is in the Citadel," the page said. "He also requests the presence of the King of Rohan, my lady."
I raised my eyebrows at this statement. The young boy looked frightened as he said it, and I knew that Éomer would be the first king this child would meet - a strong and mighty figure the likes of which he would only have heard of in legend. He would be the first king this child would lay his eyes upon, but not the last.
"And you would like me to fetch him?" I asked. The boy reddened, and then nodded. I smiled and nodded back to him, then turned to go find the terrifying King of Rohan.
Éomer opened the door soon after I knocked. He appeared as if he was in the middle of dressing, and wore only a linen shirt and breeches. In order to allow him modesty – though I had seen the man shirtless, I reminded myself - I bowed my head and said "My father requests your presence, my lord."
Éomer nodded, looking confused. "Did he give a reason?"
"The page he sent did not. I assume it to be official, since my prescience has been requested as well," I told him. Éomer nodded again.
"Allow me one more minute, Lady Lothíriel," he said and closed the door. I stepped back out into the hall and, glancing towards the great room, I saw the page peek out from behind a chair. I suppressed a laugh, waiting for the King to exit his chambers.
Éomer turned out to be a fast dresser after all, emerging in his full battle armor sans helmet quickly. As we walked down the hall, I put a hand on his and drew him closer.
"The page has never met a king, so you are indeed almost an idol in his eyes," I told Éomer confidentially.
"I see," Éomer said, and grinned. "This should be interesting."
As we entered the room, the page appeared frozen, starring at Éomer. I thought of the picture he made – a Rider of Rohan, tall and fierce in his armor. As fierce as he looked, I knew that there was a difference between the warrior and the man beneath the armor, and was grateful I was not in the pages shoes.
"Your majesty," he said, bowing down but his eyes still on Éomer. His tone was reverent, and I wondered what it would be like to not be nobility for a moment. Less responsibility, for one thing, and the idea of meeting a king would probably be the highlight of my day, let alone year.
"Rise, my good boy," Éomer said in a commanding tone, breaking my train of thought. I glanced over and caught the twinkle of amusement in his eyes. The page, however, did not.
"My lord Imrahil requests your presence," the page stuttered out. His eyes still were fixed on Éomer, and the armor he wore – leather and mail which gleamed. Éomer wore his armor with pride and dignity and if I was but a young boy of ten, I could imagine being transfixed as well.
"My presence he shall have," Éomer said. He then turned to me and held out his arm. "My lady? Shall we go?" Ah, the highlight of being royalty – young men always willing to escort a lady.
Stifling a laugh, I said "Of course, my lord. You do me a great honor." We followed the page down the stairs, and by the bottom I was shaking from trying to hold my laughter.
"Are you alright?" Éomer asked. I shook my head and finally let the laughter burst out.
"I don't know why this is so funny," I said, taking a deep breath, "but I cannot seem to control myself!" In truth, I didn't know what was funny about the situation, except that it just seemed hilarious to me. You need to sleep more and stop telling stories to young kings, I thought to myself.
"I don't mind it," Éomer said. "I like to hear you laugh. It gives me hope."
I quickly looked away, unable to respond. I had never been complimented by a king before, and somehow, it felt as if any saucy reply I could have mustered would have been inappropriate. Besides, I very much doubted he was merely flattering me; though I had only interacted with Éomer on several occasions, he struck me as the type of man who did not waste words, and those that he did speak were thoughtfully chosen.
We did not speak again until we reached the Citadel, where we thanked the page for leading us there, and I removed my hand from his arm. We were directed inside the large chamber and quickly off to the right, down a hallway into a small sitting area I did not recognize. It looked as if it had not been used in ages and had been hastily tidied up for use now. My father stood before a dormant fireplace.
"My Lord Éomer," my father said, approaching us. "I hope you slept well."
"Very peacefully, thank you" Éomer replied.
"Will you excuse us for a moment? There are some things I need to speak to my daughter about before I speak with you," my father said suddenly. I was caught off-guard as Éomer bowed and left the small room.
"Father? What is it?" I asked, concerned as this request.
"Lothíriel, I need you to take two companions of the perian to visit them in the Houses. They wait for you by the White Tree. Éomer and I will be going to council with Mithrandir and the King," my father said.
I nodded. It seemed to me that, more and more, I was being shut out of councils and I did not know what that meant. It did not seem to bode well.
"I know you're frustrated by this, Lote," my father said sincerely, "but the request came from the King, and he must not know our customs. Regardless..." he paused, glancing away from me before meeting my eyes again.
"Do you think it is time to tell Faramir?" he asked, starting an entirely new subject. I knew where this was going.
"You wanted me to tell him," I said, and my father sighed.
"You received him into the Houses. You were the second face he saw after leaving the Shadow, and you were the hand that held his throughout the ordeal. It is only fitting."
"In that case, no. Not today. He needs one more day to regain his strength, and then I will tell him."
"As you see fit," he said. "Lothíriel..."
"Good day, father," I said, not wanting to carry the conversation on any longer. I did not want apologies nor did I want my annoyance to be shown. As I exited the room, I noticed Éomer stood in the hallway, waiting patiently.
"My father will see you now," I said. "I have an errand to attend to."
"Take care, my lady," he said before entering the room. I glanced in, and then quickly headed towards the White Tree, and my errand.
I was surprised that the two companions were an elf and a dwarf. I had never seen a dwarf before, and elves were only spoken of in stories. They seemed to be bickering, and as I approached I noticed it to be entirely good-natured.
"Good morning, good sirs," I called out. They turned to face me, and the Elf smiled.
"Well hello!" the dwarf said, turning away from his companion and drawing nearer to me. "Are you to be our escort to the Houses of Healing?"
"My father sent for me to see that you visit your friends," I replied, smiling down at him. "I am Lady Lothíriel, of Dol Amroth."
"I am Gimli," the dwarf said. As he spoke, the elf - who had been staring at me in an intense manner, stepped forward and took my hand.
"Mae govannen, hirilen," the elf said, pressing his lips to the back of my hand. "Ennethen Legolas."
"Mae govannen, Híren," I replied.
"It is a pleasure to meet a lady from Dol Amroth. I could tell from your father that elven blood ran in your veins, but you, my lady, are as fair as any elven maiden."
"I fear you give me too much credit," I replied, not being able to keep a blush from rising to my cheeks. "Shall we head to the Houses? They are not far."
The companions nodded, and as I walked in front of them I heard the dwarf tell his friend, "She's very beautiful, but not as beautiful as the Lady Galadriel."
After showing them to the Halflings, I sought the Warden of the Houses.
"How is my cousin?" I asked once I found him.
"Sleeping, I'm afraid," the Warden replied. "He was up a bit earlier, but he still needs his rest."
"How is he doing otherwise?" I asked as we stopped outside his door. Indeed my cousin slept peacefully and I thanked the Valor that he did.
"He is recovering fine, but..." the warden paused. "His duties-"
"My father will handle them until he regains his strength." I glanced across the hall. "And the young woman? The Rohirrim woman?"
"She grows stronger, but her spirit seems weaker," he said as we glanced in. She was sleeping also at the moment, her hair spread across the pillow and I noticed in the sunlight it took the same golden shade as Eomer's did in the candlelight.
"Lothíriel!" I heard a voice call out, and as I turned away from the warden I saw Kel as he hobbled down the hallway on a crutch. I had forgotten about him in the panic of the past few days, and my earlier uncertainty about him seemed to return.
Behind me, the warden excused himself, and I inwardly wanted to excuse myself as well. But I could not – politeness, and perhaps something else dictated that I stay.
"What has happened?" I asked, my eyes seeing a bandage wrapped around his left leg. He paused inches away from me, and leaned on the wall. I tried to look interested.
"Shrapnel fell on me, but luckily it didn't do much to my leg. I'm a bit sore now, but I plan to fight again!" Kel said enthusiastically.
"I see," I nodded. I remembered the sounds of the enemies trebuchets as they send stones into the city, the sound of the walls falling, the cries below. My stomach churned.
"I am sorry about your cousin," he remarked suddenly, and once again my thoughts were interrupted. "I trust he will regain his strength soon."
"I do not doubt that," I said. I glanced into the room where Eomer's sister lay, and noticed she was waking up. Suddenly I did not want to be there anymore.
"I should be going – there are duties I must attend to in the Citadel," I lied, turning to leave.
"Wait – I could escort you," Kel said hopefully.
"Rest," I told Kel in my most charming tone. "Perhaps I will find time to visit you later." As much as I found myself disliking this side of Kel I had not seen before – a sappy, pathetic romantic side of Kel – I could not discourage a man who was interested in me. Eru only knew my luck with men...
"I hope to see you again soon, Lothíriel," Kel called after me. I smiled and waved to him, all the while hating myself for both the falseness of my actions, and the confusion that would later come.
It was not that Kel was an unworthy suitor. It was that he wasn't type of suitor I wanted. But then again, while I didn't really know the type of suitor I wanted, I knew he was not it.
It was late afternoon when I found I had a visitor. I had returned from the Houses to find our quarters abandoned, not even a page. My head was throbbing, so I lay down and was not disturbed. I rose as the sun made it's descent towards the horizon.
I heard my visitor's footsteps stop at the doorway, and when I turned I was surprised by who had chosen to pay me a visit.
"My lord Éomer," I said. "This is unexpected." I had not seen him nor my father since morning, and had not expected anyone to seek me out. Anyone save Kel, at least.
"But not unwelcome, I hope," he said with a smile. "I had sought to find you."
"I am not that hard to find," I replied. For indeed, I was on a balcony of our residence, looking out at the streets below and the dark mountains in the distance, not hidden in the Citadel or my room.
And his presence was not unwelcome at all. After our conversation last night I had found his company to be enjoyable enough, nervous though I was to speak with him. I was unsure where the boundary lay, since I had treated him as a patient, but those reservations were quickly swept away by his good nature.
"True," Éomer said with a small laugh, "but I also hope to gain some of peace of mind."
"Surely, my lord," I said. "Please, there are some benches here so that we may sit." I gestured to the stone benches on the balcony but while Éomer drew closer, he shook his head.
"I have been seated for several days, and I will be seated for several days more before all this is done," he said. Several days more?
"May we speak freely, my lord, and dispense of pleasantries?" I asked. He nodded, and I leaned my back against the balcony, facing him. I could tell Éomer was uneasy about whatever he had wished to confide in me, so I thought perhaps if I broached the subject first, it would ease his mind.
"I visited your sister today," I said. "Have you seen her yet?"
"No, I regret I've been busy with other matters, but shall see later today. How is she?" he asked, concern in his eyes. I realized that this was not the subject he had meant to address.
"Her body is healing, but I do not know if she is," I replied. "There seems to be some impediment to her peace of mind, so the warden says. And from my own eyes, I believe him to be right."
"As to be expected," Éomer said, sighing. "I love my sister dearly, but she is stubborn sometimes."
"It is not treason to speak the truth about those we love," I told him. "Why would she choose to be stubborn about her well being?"
"Because Éowyn is unsatisfied with the life she has been living in Edoras, and sought death and glory on the fields of battle." He stopped, uncertain whether to continue or not.
"I will not betray your confidence," I said, sitting down on the stone bench. Éomer followed my example, and sat next to me.
"Things had not been going well in Rohan before this war. Saurmon had poisoned the mind of our king, and sent his spies to harm our country. I was with my eored, protecting Rohan as best I could but Éowyn..." Éomer stopped again, and looked up at me.
"I do not wish to insult you by what I say, for I can tell you are an educated woman. I do not know the customs of Gondor, but in Rohan it is more common for women to be housewives than warriors or politicians. Perhaps it is our culture, which keeps men in the saddle and women by the hearth. Whatever it is, it dissatisfied Éowyn." He sighed again.
"I have heard of shieldmaidens of Rohan, women taught to fight-"I said but he interrupted me.
"They have faded into myth and legend. Perhaps Éowyn found her example in them. But I do not know. All I know is my sister chose death over life, and I wish I knew her own reasoning why."
"We cannot assume to know others intimate thoughts," I told him. "If you sit here and question what her motivation was, it will drive you insane. We must think of the future, of giving her hope and inspiration to live life again."
"Would you look in on her when I'm gone?" Éomer asked. Surprised, I nodded yes.
"Thank you."
"You're leaving? Are you returning to your land? " I asked, careful that I did not accuse an ally of abandoning us when we were in need. I had thought the fight was more than Gondor's now – the fate of Middle Earth now lay in the balance.
"There was a council this morning," Éomer said. "The captains of the West were there, and it is decided that to give Frodo – the Hobbit who carries the Ring – more time, we will draw Sauron's eye towards a combined force." He paused. "We march for the Black Gate in two day's time."
"I see," I said, looking away. To me, the move sounds almost like suicide. "Who is 'we'?"
"Aragorn, with the company of men from Gondor and Osgiliath, a company of riders along with myself, and...and your father as well as some of his knights and soldiers."
"I see," I replied, rising quickly to my feet. I was unable to control my actions. I had never wished to run away from something before, always happy to meet it head on. But now, oh how I wished to run away at this very moment.
I turned and looked down at the streets of Minas Tirith. The people moved about their day trying to recover their valuables, their houses, their lives. How many of these people had family fighting for the city, for this land? How many would lose everything if they died?
"Lothíriel?"
I turned to see Éomer standing as well, and looking at me with concern in his dark eyes. I laughed, hoping I would sound fine but knowing it was all an act.
"I am sorry," I said. "I...I guess I never really knew how much I had to lose until now." I closed my eyes, struggling to maintain some sort of composure. I would not cry now, because the worst was still yet to come. I would not cry now for I was being selfish.
I felt a hand slip into mine, and I opened my eyes again. I looked down to see Eomer's hand had made its way into mine – a gesture of support and care and one that I needed right now.
"I would not see a beautiful lady cry," he said softly. "I will make sure that your father and brother come home to you."
I looked up, blinking the tears away, his words still ringing in my ears. "Thank you," I said. I was unsure of what else to say. Was he trying to flatter me?
I noticed that he did not move any closer to me, that he did not try to use this moment of weakness against me.
"It will be my pleasure," Éomer said. "For your father found my sister, and it seems only right I look out for those who have looked out for me."
"Perhaps we are all becoming friends, my lord," I said, aware of his hand still in mine. I could feel the calluses in his hands, received from many years of fighting. I felt the soft outline of a scar on one is his fingers, and I wondered what he thought of my hands. Soft and delicate, perhaps, befitting a lady whose only wounds came from paper cuts. Not hands that did hard work, or gripped a sword or bow.
For a moment, I never felt closer to another person in my entire life.
"I do not think becoming your friend would be a terrible thing, Lothíriel," Éomer said. Once again I felt ready to guard myself from flattery, yet as I finally met his eyes I felt that he was sincere. He was merely being honest.
"Thank you," I said, squeezing his hand and letting it drop, "I will find you before you leave, for it is not fitting to wish you luck as of now. Or, rather, I do not find it fitting."
"Thank you," he said. "I will be very busy before I leave - but I shall make the effort to be found." He turned away and looked out over the city.
"I hope the next time I visit this city," he said, "I will have a better opportunity to enjoy it."
"I hope the next time you visit it will not be in ruins but will be a glorious city, reborn by the care of a King," I said, leaning on the balcony wall. "For too long has this fair city been without a king, and I can only marvel at what it would be like with one."
"Indeed, it will be beautiful once again," my father's voice said from behind us. Éomer and I turned around quickly, surprised at the sudden entry.
Éomer nodded. "I will be with my men, should you need me."
"I hope you will join us for supper again," my father said. "And you are welcome to stay here as well."
"I thank you for your generosity," Éomer replied. He bowed to me, and to my father, and then left.
"A good man," my father said. He studied me for a moment, probably wondering why Éomer had sought me out. In truth, I did not know the answer, though I assumed he still thought me able to bring comfort to his mind.
"He will be a good king," I told him. "He is thoughtful and considerate and brave. He will do his uncle great honor."
"Yes," my father said uneasily. "And now you must do your cousin great honor."
"What do you mean?" I asked, confused.
"Éomer told you we were riding to the Gate, did he not?"
"He has sought out my confidence," I replied. "It is common for soldiers to trust those who heal their wounds." Why am I defending myself?
"When we ride to the gate, I will need you to handle the stewardship over the city, until Faramir is able to assume his role."
The words sunk into me slowly. My father – no, the Captains of the West – were entrusting me with a great honor, and great responsibility. No doubt my father had spoken highly of my abilities, for they would not have agreed.
So Éomer knew what my father would ask of me... I realized. I wondered why he did not tell me himself, but realized it was not his place.
"What say you?" my father asked, stepping closer to me.
"It is a great responsibility that I will not handle lightly," I replied. My father nodded.
"I did not think you would. Now, this will probably before for only a day or two-"
"I shall honor my family," I said quietly. My father smiled.
"Good." He paused, looking at me. "How are you doing?"
"I find that I cannot keep my mind from wandering today," I replied. "Perhaps I have not slept enough."
"Well, I must show you some things before we eat. You will need to rest up – the city will need your strength."
Vocab Words:
Well met, my lady. My name is Legolas.
Well met, my lord.